


You're on your own

by jaqueline_nutweasel



Series: Always forward... never left or right [1]
Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Graphic Description, M/M, Resurrection, talk and sexy times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:23:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqueline_nutweasel/pseuds/jaqueline_nutweasel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, this story continues where the game left us if you choose red button number four. The world is dealing with the aftershocks, Pritchard is trying to pick up the pieces and Jensen has somewhat grudgingly agreed to come back from the dead for this story to happen. He won't regret it. </p>
<p>„...It's been over a week now. If he was still alive, you would know. He would have called or you would have found him, since it was more or less all you tried to do since Panchaea blew to hell. He drowned with the rest of them, there was no way anyone could get out of there alive. And no one did. No one. Pritchard felt too weak and too exhausted to argue with himself. Because he was usually right, wasn't he?...”</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're on your own

**Author's Note:**

> as usually, if the thought of two men having graphic sex with each other puts you off, this might not be for you. At least not the second half of it.  
> I am of course aware, that there are different versions of Adam Jensen out there, depending on how you've played deus ex: hr and what you decide to do with him. This one is mine and he is way more Mahatma than Attila if you catch my drift. I do in no way claim superiority over all the other Jensens. Same goes for Pritchard, of course.  
> Apart from that I have to say that it turned out rather different than I had initially planed. I simply wanted them to have angry sex, just because they can. But everything I touch these days seems to turn into vanilla flavored cheesecake, decorated with flowers and than a unicorn comes jumping out of it. I never asked for this, you have to believe me.  
> If you spot any grave mistakes or something sounds crude to you, kindly point it out to me if you like. Me is always glad to better me English.
> 
> ::Edit:: thanks to the lovely casie-mod for beta-reading. Ze also did this wonderful illustration for my story, which you can find [here](http://casie-mod.tumblr.com/post/87525802179/why-cant-you-just-drive-a-car-like-a-normal)  
> click to see the glory and give hir all your love.

Pritchard stared at the strings of code that floated in front of his eyes; cyphers and letters standing at attention, waiting for a command that never came. His hands rested on the keyboard, but the usually nimble fingers were still and motionless. If someone had peered inside his office at that moment, they might have thought his body was frozen in place mid-work. Only the faint hum of electronics filled the tech lab and it seemed that for once the machinery was more alive than the human in front of it.

The silence stretched on, well beyond the glass doors of the cyber-security office. There was none of the chit chat that normally spilled in from the corridors, muffled, but still loud enough to drive him crazy when he was working. Pritchard had sufficiently barked at people over the years so most of them knew better by now than to have a conversation in front of his doors. But this was a different kind of silence.

It enclosed the whole Headquarters of Sarif Industries. The panic that had ruled while biochips all over the world ran haywire, causing insanity and death, had given way to quiet dismay when people learned of the tragic accident at Panchaea that had killed so many people. Politicians, corporate leaders and workers alike. David Sarif had been one of them and the death of their CEO had left everybody at Sarif Industries too shaken, too stunned to speak other than in hushed voices. The storm had passed them, yes, but there was no one left alive to provide answers to all the questions it had raised. And it would be a long time before something like normality found its way back into everyday life.

All those thoughts swirled around in Pritchard's mind, in no particular order and too quick to really register with him. It left him blissfully blank, but he felt them in his body. As a constant ache that had neither biological cause nor location. It had been his companion for over a week now.

He sighed. It was a soft and barely audible sound, yet it startled him out of his self-forgotten trance. He blinked a few times, trying to remember what it was he had been about to do in the first place and found that he couldn't. Shit. Maybe he wasn't quite as clueless about recent events as the rest of the world, but just like them he didn't know what to do. The future was as bleak and empty and frightening as a white sheet of paper...

 

He groaned and stretched his back. His neck was killing him. He must have sat like that for longer than he'd realized. He stood and took a few hesitant steps away from his desk, looking indecisively around his office. Not for the first time he wished it had a window. So he could stand in front of it now and meaningfully gaze upon whatever the fuck it was you could gaze upon from a window. Rain, probably. As if Detroit wasn't shitty enough. Constant rain that poured from a constantly black sky, illuminated only by the low hanging clouds that reflected the orange and yellow blaze of the city lights. Those treacherous things. Their warm glow spread the illusion of warmth and comfort, but they all lied. If you followed them, chances were you'd find yourself in the middle of a riot, between burning cars and barricades on fire, fighting for your life while the golden sparks flew merrily skyward into darkness. Not to battle it, but as its allies. A swarm of will-o'-the wisps, luring in the unaware so the dark could swallow them. And between all the confusion and violence there were those, society had left behind and tried so very hard to forget. Their bonfires in the streets served as a testament that they still existed, as a constant reminder for the more fortunate. Spiteful, yet without any hope for something better.

To tell the truth, it wasn't something he wanted to see. In the end, who needed a window? And then he thought of the now unoccupied office a floor above, with the nice window with a view of the lobby and his heart clenched painfully. Athene had halfheartedly offered it to him a few days ago and yes, he had always wanted it but now even the thought of taking over Jensen’s office made him feel sick. Because that's what it still was, wasn't it? Jensen’s office... No one had touched it, yet. But he knew they would eventually. Some day soon, someone new would move in and life would go on. It always did. For those who stayed behind. He pressed his eyelids together until white stars exploded in front of his pupils. “Damn you, Jensen! You went and did something incredibly stupid, didn't you? You incompetent idiot! And now you're...”

He whispered, but what he really wanted to do was scream. His legs started to shake with the realization that he had almost said it out loud. He sank down on the floor, right where he stood and leaned his head against the backrest of the small black couch that he kept in his lab. _You know he is gone, Frank._ A voice whispered in his head. _It's been over a week now. If he was still alive, you would know. He would have called or you would have found him, since it was more or less all you tried to do since Panchaea blew to hell. He drowned with the rest of them, there was no way anyone could get out of there alive. And no one did. No one._ Pritchard felt too weak and too exhausted to argue with himself. Because he was usually right, wasn't he? That part of him that had hoped against better knowledge that Jensen would somehow pull off the impossible again lay drained and tired from days of searching and waiting and hoping for that faint crackle of the infolink, right before Jensen grumbled something infuriating in his ear and doused him in sarcasm. It had drained with each hour that ticked away, chances getting smaller by the minute.

He rubbed at his eyes. _Stop deluding yourself, Frank, it's verging on pathetic,_ he told himself quietly. Knowing Jensen he probably saved the world and sacrificed himself to do it. True Hero Style... It was either that or he simply pushed the wrong red button, the fool... Frank buried his face in his hands and waited until his eyes stopped burning. Then he got up slowly. He looked at the couch that had been his make-shift bed over the last week. Not that he had used it much, mind you. He grabbed the crumpled blanket, folded it, and stored it away. He would go home now. And sleep, for days and days on end. With a bottle or pills, anything to keep him from dreaming. He went to collect the rest of the few items that he had brought over from his apartment and threw them in his backpack. This time he didn't try to stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He was giving up. He felt like hell.

He called Athene to tell her he was leaving early. It was not something he usually did, leaving early. He wasn't head of cyber-security for nothing and his paranoia had served the company well. But right now, he didn't really give a damn. Because in the end, all his meticulous work ethics hadn't changed a thing, had they? So the computers would have to take care of themselves for a while. Which they were perfectly able to do. They were _his_ fucking computers.

To make things worse, Athene had been full of understanding and concern. He had felt her need to talk to him, her almost motherly worry for his well-being so he had cut her off with a curt thank you and disconnected. He grabbed his backpack and fled his office, down the stairs through the lobby and out of the front doors without so much as looking up. No one stopped him. They all feared the wrath of “grumpy computer guy” and it was frigging alright by him. Standing outside he paused and took a few deep breaths. It was already dark, naturally. The air was cold and wet and still smelled faintly of burnt metal and melted plastic, but after all the time he had spent in his warm and overly dry office, he welcomed its chilly freshness. With slightly trembling hands he reached into his jacket and fished for the crumpled pack of cigarettes. Fatigue and the cold air made him shiver, but he needed a smoke right now. He lit it and looked around the plaza that spread below him, covered in rubble, burnt out cars and something that seemed like the remains of a police robot and armor parts splattered around an almost circular patch of blackened and burst concrete. Sirens wailed in the distance but apart from that familiar sound even Detroit was unusually quiet.

He tensed and listened. He thought for a moment he'd heard faint footsteps behind him. Keeping his head down, he hoped that whoever it was might just walk past him, but nothing happened. Pritchard turned around, but there was no one there. It must have been just his imagination. Sleep deprivation makes you all sorts of crazy, right? He flicked the cigarette butt away and walked the few steps down to the parking lot, towards his motorcycle. Riding in this weather was going to be a bitch, but watcha gonna do? He stifled a yawn. The cold wetness came creeping through his clothes and met with the chill he felt inside, making his skin prickle with a thousand tiny needles. He didn't notice the tall shadow moving within the shadows of the parking lot. Not until an all too familiar voice behind him said: “Hello Francis.”

The keys slid from his fingers and clattered to the floor. They jingled as they hit the concrete and the sharp noise echoed painfully in his ears. He dared not turn around. In case there would be nothing. Nothing but thin air and his overly tired mind playing cruel tricks on him. So instead, he held on to his motorcycle and willed his suddenly racing heart to calm down. But this time it wasn't just footsteps that came up behind him. There was also the rustling of a coat and a steady breathing that wasn't his. A shiver ran down his spine. He could feel the presence at his back. So close... But still he was unable to move, to look. “Back from the dead, are you?” his voice lacked its usual edge, so he cleared his throat and forced himself to unfreeze. At least, to turn his head and watch as black mechanical fingers wrapped themselves around his dropped keys.

“I don't know, yet.” came the quiet reply.

Pritchard closed his eyes as he felt a hand on his side, sliding the keys back into the pocket of his jacket. “Where the fuck have you been, Jensen?” He finally turned around. Jensen was standing right behind him, so close he could feel warm breath on his face now. Pritchard automatically took a step backwards and stabbed the broad chest with his forefinger. Angrily and accusingly, yet also just to check. Yes, it felt very solid. Very firm. There was a painful twitch ghosting over Jensen’s features as he snatched the offending hand away. Quickly, but surprisingly gentle and soft, given that its touch was one of metal and polymer. “Careful there, Francis.”

Pritchard swallowed dryly. He remembered those words. It was the last thing he had heard from his operative, before he had lost the signal, before everything became a blur of regret and denial and overall confusion. His hand slipped out of Jensen’s grasp. He looked at the taller man. “What happened?”

Jensen nodded. “I'm here to tell you. But can we have this conversation someplace else, please? It... might take a while.”

Pritchard shook his head exasperated. “Fine then!” he snapped. “I was just on my way... home. You're coming with me.”

Jensen lifted an eyebrow, but nodded again. “Alright.”

For a few seconds nothing happened. Jensen just looked at him.

Frank grew impatient. “Well? Waiting for that special invitation?”

Adam shook his head and sighed. “Why can't you just drive a car like a normal person?”

Pritchard snorted. “Scared?”

“Yes, Francis. There is no way I'm getting on the backseat. You're overtired, the streets are a nightmare on these wheels right now and I didn't come back from the dead so you could drive us under a truck. Give me the keys back.”

Pritchard stared at him in disbelieve. “Excuse me?”

“I'll drive.” said Jensen with the straightest of faces.

“The hell you are.” Pritchard flared. “There is no way I'm letting you drive my bike.”

“Well then it stays here, because I will not let you drive it either.”

“This is ridiculous! Who are you? My mother?” Two hands came down on his shoulders and made him close his mouth and forget what he was about to say. Adam looked at him emphatically. “Francis, you're shaking. Nonstop. And have you looked in a mirror lately? You look terrible. When was the last time you actually slept? More than, say, half an hour?”

Pritchard tried to come up with something scorching, but failed. “Please.” Jensen continued. “I'm not trying to push your buttons here, I'm just... concerned.”

“You're always pushing my buttons, Jensen...” Pritchard muttered, but his temper was already ebbing away. Slowly he angled for the keys in his pocket and handed them over. “Don't make me regret this, I warn you.”

A rare smile played around Adams lips. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

 

Pritchard had to admit that it was probably for the best he wasn't driving. It had its merits, too. He had his arms wrapped around Jensen’s waist and since the man in front of him was taller and more broad-shouldered, he shielded him from the wind and most of the rain that still kept drizzling down. Jensen obviously knew his way around a motorcycle and it was easy to relax and just go with the movements as they weaved in and out of traffic. He barely noticed as he drifted off into a state of half sleep.

But Adam became aware of the man behind him slumping against his back. He slowed the motorcycle down just a little. The arms around his waist held on steady and Pritchard's body seemed to go with the motions out of his own accord. But it wouldn't do to have him fall off, even if Jensen dreaded the conversation that lay before them. Talking had never really been his strong suit. But it needed to be done, for his sake as well as everybody else's.

Damn. He had wanted very much to stay dead...

When they came to a halt at Pritchard's apartment building, Jensen touched the intertwined fingers around his middle and squeezed gently. Frank stirred behind him. “Are we there yet?” he said. “Sure took you long enough...” he sounded more groggy than mocking, but still Jensen rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, we would have been faster if I didn't have to worry about you sleeping behind me, you know.” “Very cute, Jensen. I was just resting my eyes.” Adam swallowed his retort. Instead he watched in silence as Pritchard climbed off the bike and removed his helmet. His face was very pale and the dark shadows under his eyes spoke the same language as the new lines that were etched into his skin. The last week must have been hell for the head of cyber-security. Jensen couldn't help but wonder if he really had such a big hand in this. Of all people, he didn't expect Pritchard to care so much.

Frank grew wary under his prolonged gaze. “What?” he said.

“Nothing. You just look... really tired.”

The other man snorted. “Well, someone had to keep the ship from sinking while you were off playing dead or whatever. But guess what, you don't exactly look radiant yourself, you know?”  
“I haven't been sleeping well, lately.”

“Good.” Pritchard sounded bitter this time. And angry.

“Excuse me?”

“Jesus, Jensen!” Pritchard shook his head. “What do you expect? It's been over a week and you just manage to show up _now_? Not a word that you were still alive, all that time? Why, Jensen? Just a little hint, anything to let me know you are still out there... I tried the infolink, the GPL tracker... everything, but all I got was jack with a nice side of squat! Care to explain?”

Adam kept his face in check. “I turned both of them off. I hacked myself, so to speak, so you wouldn't find me.” Pritchard opened his mouth, but all he managed was a barely audible “How...?” Jensen saw the hurt in his eyes and the confusion, before Frank turned his head away and cleared his throat. Jensen laid a hand on his shoulder “I'm so very sorry, Francis. I will explain everything. I promise.”

Pritchard looked at him with tired eyes. “Why do you to have to keep calling me that?” Jensen didn't answer him, but he could feel the artificial hand on his shoulder, expelling the dread and cold that had set up shop inside him. Frank waited for another word, but nothing came. He shook his head and moved forwards with a jerk, away from the touch The hand slipped from his shoulder, leaving him colder than ever.

He stepped inside the high building that contained his apartment and made his way across the hall over to the elevator. He didn't look at the tall security chief on their way upwards. He felt uncomfortable in the enclosed space. Uncomfortable yet relieved beyond anything he had ever experienced. And those were just two things out of the riot inside of him. The two things he focused on. The two things least complicated.

 

Jensen looked around curiously as they entered Pritchard's apartment. He had never been here before. It was not like they shared anything beyond work. Not even a drink. Especially not a drink. The place looked exactly like he knew it would: a clutter of CPUs and SCSI adapters. Pieces of hardware and motorcycle parts lay scattered across a workbench, and were sprinkled across the floor in heaps of different shapes and sizes. And just like in the tech lab there was a motorcycle leaning against the wall which was decorated with a couple of posters of video games that Adam had never even heard of. A shelf was stuffed with books and magazines that also spilled over to the floor where they mingled with pieces of clothing to complete the picture. Adam felt a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Of course Frank noticed. “What?” he said suspiciously.

“This is the messiest room I've ever seen.” Adam said realizing a little too late that his well spirited amusement would almost certainly be taken as an insult.

“Well, I would have cleaned up if I knew you were going to _drop by_.” Frank snapped accordingly, sarcasm oozing out of every syllable. “Maybe next time you can give me the heads-up, so I can rise up to _your_ standards. At least I managed to unpack my stuff instead of living in Cardboard Box Central.” Adam raised an eyebrow. Now it was his turn to get suspicious. “What?”

Frank blushed. “I... nothing, forget it.”

“No, no, no.” Jensen said and took a few steps in Franks direction. “Cardboard Box Central? What do you mean? Have you been to my apartment?” Frank avoided eye contact and instead busied himself with picking up the clothes that were lying around on the floor. Jensen had no inclination to let his remark slide though. He repeated his question.

“Yes, OK..” Pritchard said defensively. “I went there after you had been... missing for a couple of days.”

Jensen looked at the other man, confused. “Why on earth would you break into my apartment?” Pritchard gave a short laugh. “Break in? Don't be ridiculous. Your passwords are a joke. It wasn't so much a break- than a casual stroll-in.”

Adam felt the sudden urge to punch him. He forced himself to stay calm. “OK, whatever... but why?” Pritchard threw the gathered clothes back on the floor with a strained groan. “Because I was looking for you, you idiot!” he yelled. “I thought that maybe, just maybe, you left a clue or anything that would tell me what happened to you. I was grasping at straws for fucks sake. Now what? Do you want to arrest me for breaking into your... your miserable little apartment?”

Adam starred at him, no longer able to hide his surprise. He was sort of used to angry outbursts from his colleague, but the genuine concern and raw emotion behind it all came as a bit of a shock. And there it was again: the guilt, oh the guilt. “I... uhh... I'm sorry.” he said, knowing too well that it didn't change a damn thing that had happened.

Frank sighed. “Yeah, so you keep saying.” He brushed some loose strands of hair out of his face. “I'll go get us some coffee. Why don't you make yourself at home?” He gestured vaguely at the couch before he turned to the kitchen. “But don't touch anything.”

Adam took a deep breath and waited until Frank was out of the room. He took another deep breath, just to make sure it was safe to breathe again before he strode over to the half dismantled motorcycle. He discovered to his astonishment that it wasn't really a motorcycle at all but a computer. The engine was completely replaced with hardware. On top of the workbench he found another that looked like the cityscape of Detroit and another that reminded him of a clockwork, its wires all aglow with a faint coppery hue. Everything was beautifully detailed and he had no doubt that these were fully functional computers – or at some point would be.

“I told you not to touch anything.” The sharp voice made Adam raise his hands instinctively.

“Relax, I didn't.”

Frank had returned carrying two cups of coffee in one hand and a bottle of whiskey with two empty glasses in the other, all of which he put down on the small table in front of the couch.

“These are amazing.” said Adam pointing at the devices. He meant it. Of course, Pritchard refused to play nice.

“Please. Don't pretend to have any clue what you're even looking at.”

Adam closed his eyes and slowly counted to three. Then he said with great calm: “You know what? You're right. I probably wouldn't even find the on-switch on these things and I have no idea, what they are capable of. They could just go “bleep” every half an hour for all I care. They still look fantastic and it's great craftsmanship. Sorry I wasn't able to become an expert in all things computer before paying you a compliment, but you always tell me not to try to do your job anyway. So what do you want from me? Why can't you stop jumping down my throat for five minutes?”

 

Frank didn't respond straight away as his mouth went too dry to talk, but he felt his features soften as he looked at Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Mysterious, standing right there in the dump he called his apartment. “It's complicated.” he managed after a while. “Let's just say this is my way of telling you that it is really good to see you again and leave it at that. But if I find your explanations unsatisfying – I am going to kill you.”

Adam nodded. “Fair enough.”

Frank settled cross-legged on the couch, cradling the steaming coffee mug in his hands. He took a few careful sips and watched as Adam slowly slipped out of his coat. The cautious movements told him everything. “You're hurt.” It wasn't a question.

“It's healing.”

“Do you want me to have a look?”

Adam declined with a soft shake of the head. “Thanks but I'll be fine.”

There was the faint sound of mechanical whirring as Adam reached for the bottle of whiskey and poured them both a generous amount. The elegant black fingers closed themselves around the tumbler with the clear clicking sounds of metal against glass. Frank watched him hesitate for a split second before he downed it all in one long swig. He kept staring at his hands and Frank realized that he didn't wear his shades anymore. The yellow-green gaze of the artificial eyes was nonetheless unreadable. Before his augmentation, Jensen’s eyes had been gray and he had always been able to tell when he had landed a good punch by the way they darkened ominously even though his face remained as stoic as ever. But it was obvious that Adam was far from OK. It was written all over his body. In the tense shoulders and the hunched back, all hard muscle and carbon fibers strung to a breaking point. Frank didn't rush or push him any further. He just sat on the couch, nipped on his drinks and waited patiently until Jensen found it in him to talk. He began slowly at first, in stumbling first steps but after a while the words came spilling forth, painting a conspiracy beyond what even he could have imagined.

Adam found that once he had started it became a lot easier. In re-narration his life fell apart around him for the second time. Again every unquestioned certainty got stripped away, baring lies over lies until there was nothing left than a delicate silvery web, its threads reaching far into his early childhood. It was a painful but purifying process. Whenever he looked in Franks face, he saw compassion there and understanding and something else he couldn't quite fathom. He didn't interrupt Adam once. He just sat there and sometimes gasped in shock or pressed a hand against his mouth and overall acted like a decent human being, a friend even. And when Adam had finally reached the end of his story he felt a hand on his own, warm fingers wrapping themselves around his cybernetic ones, flooding him with data and sensation. He turned his head to look at the man next to him. Franks lips twitched ever so slightly. “My God, Jensen... no one should ever have to make a decision like that.” he said very quietly.

_Indeed, no one should._ Adam sighed. It came from a part of him he had buried very well. Not to forget it, not to eliminate it, but to protect it. It was where he had stored away the memories of what he had been, of what made him more than just a weapon wielded by other people. When he was little he had been an avid builder of paper planes and ships and small mechanical toys. He had always loved animals, especially dogs and one of his earliest dream jobs had been to train them. He had joined the police force because he had been one of the gullible guys who actually wanted to help other people. He was an obsessive reader. Research literature, novels, fiction, poetry, he took delight in all of them. And he had been a lover too, from time to time even if it never seemed to turn out right. These and more fragments of self he had tried to keep safe. It had become harder and harder, and in the end, he had lost it.

“I've killed them all.” he said. “Sarif. Taggart, Darrow... the whole frigging lot. There were still some of the workers left alive and I let them all drown.”

 

Frank wished there was a magic spell to lift the crushing weight off Adams shoulders. It tore at him to see him like this.

“Don't do this to yourself.” he said “You've saved millions of people.”

“It was unnecessary to kill them. I made a selfish decision. I wanted an end to all the lies and deceptions. I wanted to decide one thing for myself for once.”

“Christ, Jensen. Did you plan this as a suicide mission?”

“No. God no. I wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of drowning in ice cold water, you know. But it seemed like a fair deal. Our lives for a clean slate for humankind... and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there was nothing for me to go back to, really. So I sort of... made my peace.”

Frank stared at him. Speechless, horrified and sad. To his surprise, Adam gifted him with a small smile and placed his other hand on top of his. “I realize now, that I was wrong. About many things.” Pritchard broke the eye contact and cleared his throat, as a wave of heat rolled through his body and threatened to color his cheeks red but his hand stayed where it was.

“Wouldn't be a first now, would it?” he said gruffly to distract from the somewhat awkward situation.

“Yeah, somehow I knew you would be keeping tabs.” said Adam looking thoughtfully at their clasped hands. He fell quiet for a while, considering his next words. “There is one more thing I should tell you right now.” Something in his voice made the alarm bells inside Pritchard's head shrill. “When the place caved in,” Adam continued, “I thought it would only take a couple of seconds before I simply got crushed. But it felt like ages. The water just … washed me away. I remember bumping into a lot of hard and pointy things until I finally got knocked out. That and the cold. When I came too I was floating around between all the debris, topside. And that's... and that's where Faridah found me.” Frank jumped to his feet as if Adam had dropped a deadly spider in his lap. “Malik? She knew you were alive all that time?”

“Yes.” Jensen said. He sounded desperate. “She owes me. I made her swear she wouldn't tell anyone until I figured out what to do.”

Pritchard paced the room. “I don't believe it! You asshole. You... fucking... asshole. Why? So you could watch me comb every last corner of the Arctic Ocean for a trace for you?”

Adam jumped to his feet as well. “Don't be ridiculous! To play it safe until I knew what to do. There are still people out there who want nothing more than to get a hand on me. Or rather what's in me.”

“Oh yes.” Frank sneered, “because your DNA is so special”

“I never asked for this.” Jensen said. And just like that, Frank punched him. Straight in the face. They looked at each other, unable to tell who was more shocked. Then Frank grimaced and shook his hand. “That hurt.” he said feebly. Adam didn't say anything, but his eyes lit up with a flash of sudden realization as he touched his split lip. Pritchard's stomach dropped. As Adam stepped slowly towards him, he deliberately backed away to keep what little distance there was between them. But all too soon a wall put an end to his retreat. His heart skipped a couple of beats as Adam was towering right in front of him. He tried to push him away. But the man was as unmovable as an oak tree, not budging an iota. Instead he caught Frank's hands and pressed them against his chest, softly caressing the bruised knuckles. He could feel Adam's heartbeat through the layers of cloths. A fast and heavy thud thud thud that reverberated in his body like thunder. All his thoughts were drowned out by this undeniable proof of life right beneath his fingertips. “Let... let go.” he said weakly, panic boiling up inside him. He had been adrift for so long, lost in an ocean that seemed to hold only darkness and knew no land. And now a storm had come. The waves were tossing him like a rag doll and the wind was howling all around him, ripping the thoughts from his mind and the words from his lips. He was bound to sink. He would shatter on this rock in front of him and perish. A wreck too damaged to ever be mended again. _So be it then_ , he thought finally. _I cannot do this anymore._

He was caught in a tight yet gentle embrace. The caress of warm breath and ruff beard over the skin of his neck made him shudder as Adam whispered a secret in his ear. Around him the wind kept on roaring, but it had lost all power over him now that he had found his safe haven, feeling solid ground beneath his feet once more. His vision was blurred but his lips found Adam's blindly and he kissed him like the drowning man he was, gasping for air. Adam tasted of whiskey and coffee and rain, his lips so warm and compliant it defied the cold metal most his body was made of. Frank shivered as unnatural strong hands tugged impatiently at his sweater, sneaking under it to find the bare skin of his back. They felt cool at first but they were warming quickly to the touch and he moaned as they slid over his body, urging his arms up so they could rid him of the annoying fabric. His hair tie got lost in the hurried process and he felt Adam bury his fingers in the strands of black hair that came spilling down on his shoulders. They tugged at it, pulling his head back to expose his throat and as Adam was nipping and kissing and biting a trail down to his collarbone, Frank could feel his mind and body melting under the combined rush of hands and hot breath. The fear and tension lessened with every bit of cloth that Adam stripped off him until there was only the lightness of bare skin and the need to feel what he had thought lost. He yanked Adams pullover and shirt away and groaned when he was rewarded with the sight of ripped abs and pecs, black artificial limbs shimmering against pale skin, both firm yet smooth under his touch. His hands traveled lower and he tore at Adams belt, pulling the offending trousers down. It wasn't until they were both naked that their frantic movements stilled a little. They looked at each other then, breathing heavily and Frank watched as Adams lips curved up in a smile.

“I always knew you were hiding something beautiful underneath all those turtlenecks and baggy-pants of yours” he said.

Frank felt a blush creep onto his cheeks, but he didn't mind much. Not when at the same time Adams fingers were tantalizingly circling around his nipples, drawing soft gasps from him. His body arched into the sensation not caring much what his ego might make of it.

 

Adam wanted this more than he had imagined. And he meant every word he said. Where his body was combat hardened and scarred, a terrifying mash-up of flesh and machinery, Francis was all lean muscle and smooth skin. He watched in fascination as this body reacted to his every touch, bending and writhing, wordlessly guiding his hands to all the right places. The openly displayed passion and dedication made him wonder what a self-centered prick he himself must have been to not be able to see what a strange and precious thing had hidden itself from him in plain sight.

_I had to kick his damn doors down to finally see him like this_ , he thought to himself, determined to make up for all the grief he had caused. So he continued his explorations. With hands and tongue and teeth he mapped this body, carefully noting the delicious noises of pleasure he wrenched from Frank's lips like someone learning to play a delicate instrument.

He drew a damp trail down the flat stomach when he slowly sank down to his knees. Frank's cock was just as gorgeous as the rest of him. Long and already rigid, pointing upwards in an elegant curve. Silvery pearls of precome glistened on its tip and Adam allowed himself a taste, dragging his tongue over it in a slow swirling motion.

Frank moaned shamelessly above him. “Jesus, Adam... you're killing me.”

He ran his hands along the slightly trembling thighs, wrapping one arm around Frank's waist and placing his other hand on his hip to keep him steady. He felt the tug of fingers in his hair, urging his head in a particular direction. “Please, Adam.”

He looked up at Frank at that point, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Please what exactly, Francis?” His voice sounded even deeper than usual. Blue eyes starred down at him, so dark with need and desire it was hard not to drown in them. Frank disentangled one hand from Adams hair and instead tilted his chin upwards, tracing his thumb gently over his bottom lip. “Open your mouth.” he said, “And carry on torturing me.” Adam smiled as he sucked playfully on the offered digit, their eyes never leaving each other. Then he tightened his grip around Frank's waist and buried his face in the soft black tuft between his legs, reveling in the smell for a second before he took pity and complied. He licked the silken skin from base to top before he wrapped his lips around the shaft and slowly took him in. Frank gave a long moan, his fingers clenching and unclenching in Adam's hair. It hurt a little but he didn't mind. It proved to him that he was doing something right, for a change. He tried to set a steady pace that he was comfortable with himself, holding Frank's hips in place with one hand while the other sneaked between his legs and began massaging that special spot he knew he would find there. He could tell he had succeeded by the way Frank's thighs started bucking and the strangled cry that escaped his throat.

 

Pleasure sparked somewhere inside him, making his nerves tingle and his toes curl. Frank could feel his legs giving out on him as Adam continued whatever he was doing with that mouth and hands of his. “Stop...” he groaned helplessly. “I can't, have to...” Adam released him and he joined the other man on the floor a little less gracefully then he would have liked but not caring much either. He wrapped his arms around Jensen’s neck and kissed that amazing mouth. He could taste himself on Adam's tongue, feeling a hard erection pressing up against his own. They moved with each other for a while, sharing much desired friction. Frank still had a hard time believing that this was really happening. It wasn't something that _just happened_ to him, let alone with someone he actually fancied. So he ran his hands over Adam's body, the shoulders and the muscular back down to the firm ass and he swallowed dryly. Yes, it was happening. The man in front of him was very real and the hands that were stroking and teasing him were not his own playing make believe. He started nipping and licking at the bolt ports that dotted Adam's chest, caressing skin and metal alike where it merged into one another. Adam groaned, watching him from half closed eyes with a lustful yet somewhat astonished look. “Francis.” he whispered, voice so deep it sent shivers down his spine. He caught Adam's face in a firm grip and stared in his eyes watching mesmerized as the retinal prostheses spun and contracted. He could only wonder what data they collected but they sparkled and danced, their yellow-green glow brighter than usual. Adam wrapped one hand tight around his length, the other sneaked around his back, holding him steady as his hips bucked. Frank bit his lips to keep himself from crying out loud. A firm grip in his hair told him to tilt his head back and he obeyed without thinking. Adam made an unidentified noise somewhere between a gasp and a growl before that hot mouth descended on him again, leaving him shivering and gasping in a delicate mixture of pain and pleasure. It would leave bruises, he was sure of it and the thought made him moan again. Adam locked eyes with him, all the while his hand sneaked up to pinch his nipples while the other one released his hair and slid down to cup his ass, sliding a finger along the cleft. “You are so amazing.” Adam said, catching Frank's cries from his lips with a kiss. He began stroking his cock again, one finger resting against his entrance without breaching quite yet, just circling and rubbing, maddeningly so. Frank's hips moved out of their own accord, back and forth between friction and the gentle push of a finger. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, ready to lose himself when Adam's voice started to paint pictures in his mind that almost had him coming here and there.

“You. are. evil.” he panted.

Adams breath tickled his ear. “Interested?”

“Oh... God...” he gasped. “Yes. Please. Everything you just said... Don't mind which order. Bedroom. Top drawer...” The rest of his stumbling answer got lost as Adam stood, pulling him to his feet as well and he simply lifted Frank up. He gave a small yelp of surprise and wrapped his legs around Adam's waist. He was pretty sure he should feel indignant about this and maybe would do so later, but right now this display of strength was just utterly delightful.

The mattress was cool on his skin as Adam lowered him down. Frank had little patience left. He wanted to get rid of the very memories of last week and a part of him still was afraid that this would all turn out to be some sort of misunderstanding, a trick or a prank before the man faded away again like a ghost, a spectre dissolving in the first light of morning.

Jensen loomed over him and watched him with a look in his eyes that under any other circumstances would have him turn around to see who it was meant for. But right now, there only were the two of them, weren't there?

As Adam reached for the drawer Frank remembered a little too late, that it was not meant to be opened by other people since it contained, amongst condoms and lube, a couple of very private things. He closed his eyes but he still heard the small whistle of surprise and he blushed more than he had in years. “Don't ask.” he said.

“But please, do tell.” Adam chuckled. He fished for the things he wanted and almost laughed at Frank's embarrassed expression. “Nothing to be ashamed of.” he said. “I know it can get lonely, especially at night when you're not at work. And then there is that handsome colleague of yours you just can't stop thinking about...” Frank opened and closed his mouth a few times. He wasn't able to respond right away, because Adam had begun to stroke him again. His cock jumped between those sleek fingers and he had to bite his lips to keep quiet. “I... ahh... You're not talking about Steve the intern, are you?”

Adam laughed merrily. “I don't know. You tell me. Do I have to worry about _Intern Steve_ now?”

Frank didn't respond. Instead he hooked one leg around Adam's waist and pushed against him to turn them around. They both knew that he was no match for Adam physically, not pre- and certainly not post-augmentation, but Jensen just rolled with it, grinning up at Frank a little sheepishly.

“No worries.” He leaned down and sucked at the sensitive spot on Adam's neck. He felt goosebumps erupt as a result of it and Adam's hands started wandering down his hips, over the curve of his ass.

The lube was slick and cold. It made him shiver with anticipation. A finger pushed slowly inside him and his breath quickened. “Oh. God.” he groaned. Soon a second and then a third finger joined and Frank was pushing back against them slowly and with closed eyes. They lay chest on chest, their erections trapped between them, rubbing against each other and Frank moaned ever so softly but with growing desperation. He wanted more. Everything Adam had promised. “Fuck me, for fuck's sake, Adam. I can't keep that up much longer.”

Adam instantly gripped his waist and flipped them around again, throwing him on his back. He stared into Frank's wide blue eyes. “Turn around.” Adam said, voice sharp with command and it went straight through him, erupting in his lower body and the ripples had even his fingertips tingling. He rolled over, and waited on hands and knees for Adam to prepare himself. The blunt tip of a penis pushed against him and Adam slid in with ease, burying himself deep inside of him. Frank dug his fingers into the sheets and pushed back with each thrust of hips, Adam's name all that his tongue could manage. He knew he wouldn't last long. He could already feel himself come loose, his body contracting and trembling as with each movement Adam hit his sweet spot, stretching him, filling him so completely. It was too good to last long. His limbs didn't obey him anymore and gave way, so he just buried his face in the crook of his arm to muffle the screams that came out of his mouth. But Adam wrapped his arms around him and gathered him up. His back was pressed against the other's chest and he could feel the muscles working, taking him in deep and fluid strokes. He let his head fall against Adam's shoulder, moving with him, so good so perfect so that when cool fingers finally wrapped themselves around his weeping cock, it didn't take more than a few seconds to undo him. He came in hot, almost violent bursts. His body was shaking and clenching and he heard Adam shout his name before their movements slowly came to a halt, both of them gasping for air. Frank could feel their mingled sweat dripping down his back and he turned his head a little to capture Adam's lips in a lazy kiss. He felt strangely boneless and light as a feather. All he was conscious of was the soft scratch of beard on his skin and the wet caress of their tongues. Tiredness crept up at him once more. But this time it did not force him with the rattle of iron chains, cold and unforgiving. This time it wooed him with soft sheets, with a promise of warmth and comfort. It pulled him down from where he floated with gentle hands, made his body heavy again. It returned bones and flesh and skin, marks of hands and teeth and the delicious ache they came with. He leaned into Adam who held him, not caring about how heavy he had suddenly become. So heavy he could barely keep his eyes open.

“Let's get you some sleep, shall we?” He could hear the smile in Adam's words.

Frank only nodded and crawled slowly under the covers. Adam disposed unceremoniously of the condom, eager to join him under the warm blankets.

 

He found, that he couldn't quite keep his hands off Francis, so he wrapped an arm around him and buried his face in the soft black hair. Frank sighed and turned a little to look at him. Adam could see how he struggled to stay awake, his eyelids drooping ever so slightly. But he lifted his hand and touched Adam's face, following the scar that cut through his eyebrow to the hexagonal shape edged in his forehead, down the bridge of his nose to his lips. They made his skin prickle pleasantly.

“Will you still be here when I wake up? Frank's voice sounded matter-of-factly, but Adam knew better by now. “I guess that depends.” he said with a sly smile.

“On what?”

“Do you want me to be here when you wake up?”

“You're really going to make me say it, aren't you?”

“I made you do a lot of things tonight, Francis”

“Yes you did.” Pritchard said wistfully. He fell quiet for a while, still stroking Adam's face. “Course I want you to stay.” he mumbled finally. “You can't honestly think that I will let you out of my sight again after that stunt you pulled.”

“All right then, I will.” Adam said with a grin and reached for the light switch. Darkness fell. It brought its shadows along to gather around them, watching them benevolently. Adam raised a hand to bid them good night. Grateful as always for their protection.


End file.
